"The value of an item isn’t determined by the
owner, but by what the buyer is willing to pay."
A few years ago things were tight, like REALLY tight – like “Kraft
Macaroni and Cheese is a treat”-tight. I had a La Salle watch for which I paid
about $600.00. It was a few years old, but I had taken great care of it and figured
I could get about $300.00 resell. I walked into a local pawn shop and presented
my La Salle. The owner looked at it, turned it over, hummed and hawed a few
times and said, “Nice watch. I haven’t seen a La Salle in a few years. I can
give you sixty bucks for it.” I gasped. That was about a tenth of what I had
paid new. I figured it wasn’t worth retail, but sixty dollars?
The pawn shop owner looked at me and said, “Maybe I can go
seventy-five, but nothing more. I don’t get a lot of demand for La Salle
wristwatches anymore.”
I was despondent. I had decided I needed money – $300 to be
exact, $75 felt . . . useless. Picking up the watch, I headed for the door to
leave. The owner called to me, “But if it helps, I’ll give you twenty bucks for
that Hard Rock tee shirt you’re wearing. I collect them and I like yours. Haven’t
seen one like it.”
"One of a kind . . . kind of like 250." |
He hadn’t seen one like it because it was a bootleg. One I
had designed and had printed for a trade show about ten-years prior. I had about
250 printed for $6.00 a piece. But the exchange made me wonder, “Why is this
guy willing to pay me so much for a used tee shirt but not for a nice watch?”
A few years later I was sharing this story with a friend who owns
a second-hand shop. I was telling it as if the pawn shop owner was crazy when
my friend stopped me, saying,
“He told you why the shirt was worth $20, but you
were too upset to listen. If it had been me, I would have taken the money.”
My
friend went on to explain the value was because the other guy collected Hard Rock tee shirts. He didn’t
have one like it and wanted to add it to his collection. He asked, “Why didn’t
you sell it? I’m sure you had more than one.” I did, about four more in a box
at home. “You were so hung up on not getting $300 for the watch you walked away
from an easy twenty.”
"Asher's." |
My friend was right.
He related a story:
Remember
about thirty years ago, Girbaud Jeans were the hottest thing going. People were
paying over $100 for a single pair when you could get Levis for about twenty –
and Levis where better jeans. But Girbaud were the “must-have” pants. All the
cool kids had them and all the other kids wanted them.
"High School was GNARLY!" |
About
five years later, Lucky Brand became the cool jeans and you could by Girbaud at
Army-Navy stores for about fifteen dollars.
"How much will you give me for a vintage Sleztak mask?" |
He said he runs into the same problem when people sell used clothes to him that I had with my watch. People come in with an
expectation of what they think their clothes are worth, without accounting for
what someone else is willing to pay.
My friend went on to explain to me how second-hand retailing
works:
Brand-name clothes come from
brand-name retailers. They’re in brand-name malls with higher rent. The manufacturers
charge a premium for the clothes and then there’s advertising. People are
paying $60 for something that costs about $5.00 to make.
So when people sell the clothes to
me their perception is the item is worth $60 and expect to get close to what
they paid. When in reality, it’s only worth what the next person is willing to
pay for used clothes. Generally about a quarter of the original price if the item is in good shape. My
buyers won’t pay retail for used, so neither can I. Even if the tags are still
on them, the clothes are probably a season out of date. So tags don’t really
mean much.
If an item originally sold for $60,
I may be able to sell it for $15 if it’s still in demand. But, like the Girbaud
Jeans, at some point they just become “pants.” So I may only get $10 for an
item if it’s “out-of-style.” If I think I can get fifteen bucks for something,
I can’t pay any more than five dollars. Even second-tier retail space isn’t
cheap. Then I have to account for employees wages, utilities, theft and being stuck
with items that won’t sell. At the end of the day I can only buy stuff that I
think I can sell quickly. Some people get upset, call me names, flame me on
Yelp. I’m not trying to be mean or piss them off – I’m just trying to stay in
business.
So, sufficiently humbled, I thanked my friend for the lesson
in economics. As I turned to leave he asked me what time it was. I looked at
the La Salle on my wrist and began to tell him. He laughed and said he was only
joking. As I walked out the door he hollered,
“The next time someone offers you
twenty bucks for a used tee shirt, take it. The next guy may not be a
collector.”